
Chapter 5: Ron's Howler and The New so-called 'Teacher'
Lucy's POV
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione had her nose buried in Gilderoy Lockhart's Travels with Trolls.
Out of all the books she can read, Lockhart's book is definitely her worst choice. Tsk. Tsk.
While Ron here, runs gobs of Spellotape over his broken wand, shook his head grimly.
"Say it. I'm doomed." Harry glanced at his wand and back to him.
"You're doomed." He replied casually. I smacked him lightly on his shoulder, he 'ouched' and rubbed it painfully.
I guess it kinda hurt than I expected.
"What is that for?"
"You're not helping, you know." I scolded.
He shrugged. "Anyway, where's your cat, Cheshire, Kitten?"
"She's at my Aunt's." Then, I realized what he just called me. "Wait a minute. Kitten? Really?"
"Well, it suits you."
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Why is that, Potter?"
He smirked. "One, you're feisty," He outstretched his hand and pinched my right cheek.
"Two, agressive." Pinched my left cheek. "Three, you're sooo cute! Also, it's because of your cat ears."
I pouted and pinched his cheeks, too. We tilted each other's head like a loony.
I swear, I'm really good at hiding my blush... Thank Merlin.
"Herry, et herts..." I fake whimpered. He thankfully, believed it and quickly let go. I also did.
He caressed his cheek. Ha! "You have a hell of a finger."
I smiled triumphantly. "Of course!" I leaned towards him and kiss him on the cheek, ignoring the butterflies in my tummy.
It's not long but it's not short either, when I pulled, he had a dazed expression on his face.
He blinked and flushed. I tried my very best not to kiss him again. He's just so irresistible!
Suddenly, FLASH! -- a light blinded Harry and I, since I'm here besides him.
We blinked, found a small boy standing before us with a camera. He's adorable, I might add.
"Hiya, Harry. I'm Colin Creevey. I'm in Gryffindor too." He introduced himself breathlessly.
"Oh, Hello Colin. Nice to meet--" Colin cut him off.
"They're for my dad -- the pictures. He's a milkman, you know, a Muggle, like all our family's been until me. No one knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till we got my letter from Hogwarts. Everyone just thought I was mental."
"Imagine that." Ron muttered. I smacked him on his head.
"Say, Harry. D'you think your friend could take a photo of me and you standing together? Ya' know, to prove I've met you?" He requested eagerly.
Harry glanced at Ron and I. He looked positively homicidal. Poor Harry-pooh..
Mercifully, just then, owls stream into the Hall.
"Post is here!" Exclaimed Dean Thomas.
One after another, the birds swooped gracefully down, clutching letters from home. Elsa swooped by holding a letter. I took it and gave her some owl treats. She then, flew away.
Suddenly, something large and gray fell into Hermione's jug, spraying us all with milk and feathers.
I realized it's an owl.
"Errol!" said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.
"Oh, no -" Ron gasped.
"It's all right, he's still alive," said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.
"It's not that - it's that." Ron pointed at the red envelope.
"What's the matter?" Harry perplexed.
"She's - she's sent me a Howler," said Ron faintly.
My eyes widened. Not the Howler.. They're horrible, it's letter that plays recorded message in a very loud voice, and then explodes. Just like that.
"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't my gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and" - he gulped - "it was horrible."
I saw Harry from the corner of my eye looked from our petrified faces to the red envelope.
"What's a Howler?"
But our whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners.
"Open it," I urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes -"
Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's beak, and slit it open and...Mrs. Weasley's voice thunders.
"RONALD WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR!
I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT!--"
Mrs. Weasley's yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls.
"--IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME
(softening suddenly) Oh, and Ginny dear. Congratulations on making Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud."
Ginny, sitting a bit apart from us, looks up shyly, then returns to the small book book she's scribbling in.
A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes.
Harry, Ron and I sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over us. A few people laughed from other houses and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.
Hermione closed Voyages with Vampires and looked at Ron.
"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you -"
"Don't tell me I deserved it." Snapped Ron.
"Anyway, what've we got this afternoon?" said Harry, hastily changing the subject.
"Defence against the Dark Arts." Answered Hermione at once.
"Why," I demanded, seizing her schedule, I made a choking noise, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"
Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.
Harry, Ron, Hermione and I finished eating and went to our next class, which is, like Hermione said, Defence against the Dark arts.
Oh, joy! Note the sarcasm...
_________________________________________________________
The rest of the class came clattering in, Ron and Hermione sat down on either side of Harry and I.
"You could've fried an egg on your face" said Ron. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."
"Shut up." Harry snapped.
I took out my Diary and scribbled down, hiding it behind my table. I told Tom what happpened earlier and he told me that he was sorry for Ron.
When 'Professor' Lockhart arrived, I hurriedly wrote a quick 'goodbye', and placed it inside my bag.
Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville's copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.
"Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five- time winner of Witch Weekly's Most- Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
He waited for us to laugh; a few people smiled weakly. Not me.
I let out a fake guffaw, rapping the table, then swiftly replaced by a blank look.
"That...is so funny." I spoke in a monotone voice. All students -except the girls- stiffled a laugh. Lockhart shook his head, chuckling. Git.
"Oh, Ms. Conner. By the way, I see you've all bought a complete set of my books -well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in -"
Lockhart begins to circulate papers. Harry, Ron and I examined the questions.
"Look at this questions. They're all about him." I whispered, frowning slightly.
"'What is Gilderoy Lockhart'sfavorite color?'" Harry read.
"'What is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?'" It's Ron's turn to read the bloody questions.
"'When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?'" I grimaced.
"You have thirty minutes. Start -- now!"
____________________________________________________________
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected our papers and rifled through them in front of the class.
"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"
I rolled my eyes. Of course you won't, you irritating drunkard..
He gave us another roguish wink.
Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter.
Me...well, I have a disgusted expression all the time.
Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention and gave a start when he mentioned her name.
". . . but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl! In fact" - he flipped her paper over - "full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"
Hermione raised a trembling hand.
"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so - to business."
He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.
Lockhart's expression suddenly darkens. If that's even possible.
"Now - be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."
Intrigued by his tone of voice and words, I leaned forward for a better look at the cage.
It seems that Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing now. Neville, on the other hand was cowering in his front row seat.
"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."
As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.
"Pixies?" I asked dumbfounded.
"Yes." He spoke dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish Pixies."
Seamus let out a snort of laughter.
"Yes?" He smiled at him.
"Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.
"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"
The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing.
The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.
"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.
Instantly, the pixies rocket about, spraying us students with ink bottles, Breaking beakers and shredding books. Two seize Neville by the ears, lift him into the air, and begin to circle the ceiling.
"Come on now, round them up, round them up. They're only pixies." Lockhart shouted.
They're only pixies your ass!
He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too.
Wow, thank you, sir!
The bell rang and there was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Ron, Hermione and I, who were almost at the door, and said,
"I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He slammed the door, and gone. We blinked. Ron swats a pixie gnawing his ear.
"Can you believe him?" Roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.
"He just wants to give us some hands- on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.
"Hands-on?" I asked. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing -"
"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books - look at all those amazing things he's done -"
"He says he's done." I grunted.
Then Neville falls, plopped onto Lockhart's desk, shaken but unhurt.
All of a sudden, the chandelier started to sway back and forth, ready to fall above Neville's head.
My eyes widened.
"Look out!"
I dashed toward him and pulled him away from the chandelier. Then, I felt a hard object dropped on my head. They looked at me with horror.
Something, like a liquid trickled down on my forehead. I touched and saw that it was a BLOOD. My blood.
My vision started to fade and I collapsed on the floor. The last thing I heard was Hermione yelling.
"Get the Professors!" Then I was out like a light.
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